


The Many (and Mostly Untrue) Tales of Young Jim Kirk

by chaletian



Series: In Which The Enterprise Is Like A Village [20]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2013-07-03
Packaged: 2017-12-17 13:33:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/868131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaletian/pseuds/chaletian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim Kirk tells tales of derring-do (which are sometimes true).</p>
<p>He tells tales of love (which usually aren’t).</p>
<p>He tells tales (and he thinks they buy them).</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Many (and Mostly Untrue) Tales of Young Jim Kirk

Starfleet Academy was a game for James T Kirk. His own personal VR. If he screwed up, it didn’t really matter, because he was already screwed up. Actually, when it came down to it, he didn’t really screw up that much. Well. OK. He wouldn’t be soon forgotten, that was for sure. And when instructors called him ‘brilliant’, they were usually shaking their heads in sorrow and/or rage. And he’d sort of set up that underground bar which, after Vulcan and the Narada, he’d heard had been named after him. But really, he hadn’t screwed up too badly. His grades were good (excellent). People were talking about a future.  
  
He, Jim Kirk, late of Riverside county jail, was supposed to have a future. And then he’d beaten (cheated) the Kobyashi Maru, and Vulcan had been attacked, and Pike had been taken, and suddenly his future wasn’t some hazy potential yet to come, but right here, right now.  


oOo

  
Right here is the Enterprise mess hall. Right now is four hours after the end of his shift and two hours after he should have been tucked safely up in bed. The room is darker than usual, the customary dazzling bright lights of Enterprise dimmed. Jim toys with the cup in front of him. He’d talked to one of the transport officers a little while ago. The man had been desperately unhappy, and Jim had found himself telling Mansur more than he should have done, because he realises now that he doesn’t have the luxury any more of telling people about his difficult childhood and troubled adolescence. These people don’t need him to be scared and fucked up: they need him to be the captain. Because that’s something else he’s realised. He is the captain. Not just of Enterprise; he is the captain of these people and it’s up to him to lead them. And he can’t do that when they know all about his crappy youth.  
  
While he’s thinking about all this, and wishing he could actually get drunk and be pathetic instead of having to think about his ship and his crew, the door slides open, and Chekov wanders in looking miserable.  
  
“Miya does not wish to be my girlfriend,” he says, and he looks so woebegone that Jim can’t help but smile. He considers telling Chekov about the time when Ally Harper laughed when he propped himself against her locker and asked her out. He considers telling him about how she said he was a loser who everyone said was gonna end up in big trouble. But he doesn’t. He can’t.  
  
“Sit down, kid,” he says. “Lemme tell you about the time Susie Hathaway dumped me for Eddie Jones.” He makes up a story, in which he is lovelorn and stupid (but also totally hot and noble), and in which he gets the girl at the end by being awesome.  
  
“I vill be awesome too,” says Chekov determinedly, and Jim claps him on the back.  
  
“Damn straight,” he says. He knocks back the rest of his drink, and heads to his quarters.  


oOo

  
  
Susie Hathaway is not the only story he tells. He invents a whole string of past girlfriends to cope with Chekov’s wavering romantic fortunes, and finally hits pay dirt with Ella Johansson In The Ninth Grade, which sees Chekov making out with Ensign Miya whilst on shore leave. (Jim spent most of ninth grade avoiding his stepfather, stealing beers, getting high, and being obsessed by twenty-first century cosmology and eighteenth century naval traditions, but no-one needs to know that.)  
  
He tells a newly assigned ensign about how he struggled to fit in to high school (true) and managed it by joining a couple of sports teams and going out of his way to sit with different people in the cafeteria (wildly untrue).

  
He tells Robbins about losing his dad and how he was proud of him. (He doesn’t tell him that he doesn’t remember his dad and mostly is still just angry.)  
  
He tells tales of derring-do (which are sometimes true).  
  
He tells tales of love (which usually aren’t).  
  
He tells tales (and he thinks they buy them).

oOo

  
  
Spock sits in the observation deck, what passes for a quizzical expression on his face. “The Captain described at considerable length and with unnecessary dramatic emphasis an episode of his youth that he felt to be relevant to our earlier... discussion.”  
  
Uhura glances across at him, a well-exercised eyebrow raising slightly. Their ‘discussion’ had been a fairly significant row; not that Spock is likely to admit to it.  
  
“He tends to do that,” she says.  
  
“However, having been privy to his Academy file, I know that he was lying. The incident as he described it could not have taken place.”  
  
Uhura smiles this time. “Yes,” she says, “he tends to do that.” Spock cocks his head curiously, and she continues. “You really think he’s had as many girlfriends as he tells Pavel about?”  
  
They look at each other.  
  
“Bad example,” says Uhura, shrugging. “It’s just... I don’t know, I think he doesn’t want people to really know him. Or thinks they _shouldn’t_ know him. Maybe he’s right.”  
  
“Fascinating,” says Spock.

oOo

  
  
It’s poker night for the senior officers, and the game is well underway. Scotty is losing, because Scotty always loses. Sulu’s seen the way Spock and Uhura are all loved up again, so he flings in his chips with gay abandon, happily considering about five bets that will swing his and Chekov’s way in the morning. Bones is, unusually, happy as well, since a certain Crewman Winters is among a dozen crewmen sent to the planet below for shore leave, and won’t be back for another 48 hours. Jim’s lazing back in his seat, his cards face down on the table, grinning at his staff.  
  
“Captain,” says Spock, laying down his own cards with familiar precision, “you frequently tell untrue stories to crewmembers.” Everything goes still for a moment. Jim stiffens.  
  
“I tell ’em what they need to hear,” he says after a moment, and Spock inclines his head.   
  
“I would not argue with that assessment. However, _we_ do not need such stories.”  
  
Bones slaps down his cards. “Jim knows better than to try that horseshit with us,” he says, and tosses a couple of chips into the pot. “Raise you ten.”  
  
Jim stares at Spock. “They need to trust me,” he says.  
  
“They _do_ trust you,” says Bones irritably. “Are we playing or not?”  
  
“I was a screw-up,” says Jim. “I drank and smoked and got into trouble you can’t even imagine.”  
  
“I used to cheat on English tests,” says Sulu unexpectedly, inspecting his cards.   
  
“I was reprimanded on more than one occasion for physical altercations,” says Spock.  
  
“My mother left me when I was a kid,” says Uhura, “and I could never live up to my father’s standards.”  
  
“I’m divorced, miserable and haven‘t spoken to my daughter more’n half a dozen times since we started this mission,” says Bones. “Hell, I’m more fucked up than any of you.”   
  
They all look at Scotty. He shrugs.  
  
“Well, they still havenae found Admiral Archer’s daft beagle,” he says.  
  
Sulu grins. “56 to 1 and growing,” he says cheerfully. Scotty scowls.   
  
“Everyone’s a screw-up, one way or another,” says Bones. “Now play your damned cards!”

They play their damn cards. As the game draws to a close, and they saunter out of the room, Jim pauses in the doorway and glances at Spock.  
  
“It wasn’t true, that story I told you the other day,” he says.  
  
“I know,” says Spock, and Jim nods a little, then grins.  
  
“But the story about Annie Darlow - that’s totally true.” Spock raises an eyebrow, but Jim carries on blithely. “And that one about the Academy and the Andorian captain. And the one about Jeanette Martinez...”   
  
“I do not believe that story to be true.”  
  
“Well, it’s _mostly_ true.”  
  
They bicker amicably as they wander down the corridor and Bones, carrying cards and chips in a box under his arm, watches them go, a smile on his face. About time Jim Kirk realised he could trust them as much as they trusted him.


End file.
